


Finger Food

by JenfysNest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Virgin Ben Solo, Ben Gets a Really Weird Idea from Instagram, Crack, Don’t judge him, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fruit Fingering, Hand & Finger Kink, Loss of Virginity, No Fruit Were Harmed in the Writing of This Fic, Practice makes perfect, Smut, Stephanie Sarley Who?, This turned out really sweet, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Ben Solo, is a virgin no more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-07-29 14:56:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20084092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenfysNest/pseuds/JenfysNest
Summary: Rey first comes across his video purely by accident. The number of times she’s sought his videos out after that, however, is entirely intentional.In which Ben is an awkward virgin who practices his burgeoning fingering skills on fruit and posts the videos online. Rey is obsessed with his videos and his hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KyloTrashForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/gifts).

> Happy Birthday to the sweetest smut maven around. 🎂

Today it’s a honeydew. It’s bisected perfectly, and two of his thick fingers are slowly thrusting in and out of the slippery seeds. The slick sounds mirror the ones coming from Rey.

His voice is deep and penetrating—the inflection so distinctive. Every soft word sending shivers down Rey’s spine. She _ feels _ his voice inside her. Feels the tingly sensation of it travel from her head through her cunt and down to her curled toes.

All he ever does is recite mundane facts about whatever fruit he’s touching that day.

His voice comes in clear through the headphones she has plugged into her laptop. She’d die if Rose or Finn found out what she watches to make herself come.

“Honeydew has a round to slightly oval shape, typically between 15 and 22 centimeters, or 5.9 to 8.7 inches, long.”

_ How long is your cock? _ Rey wonders, as her fingers rub slow, rough circles on her clit. _ With fingers like that, does he even need one? _

Take away the enticing visual of the way he parts the fruit with his fingers—pushing through the soft juicy flesh, sometimes gentle and sometimes rough—and Rey still thinks just hearing his voice would get her off.

But his voice isn’t the reason she comes back over and over again. She comes back to watch those hands—those fingers—so big, yet so deft, so precise. You’d think fingers that huge would be clumsy, but no. His work so well they can make Rey come without even touching her.

“Honeydew falls off from the vine when ripe. While picking the about-to-ripen honeydew, you should cut it with a small piece of stem.”

_ I’m ripe. Fuck. Pick me. _

She comes with a stifled moan—her fingers slick with her own juices while she watches his fingers glisten too.

* * *

Because her life is a clusterfuck of crazy, of course, she first discovers his video in the most unlikely of places.

Rose tells her about a wild groupie story she read on a subreddit for one of her favorite bands. She billed it as some true Led Zeppelin shark-girl-type debauchery, and Rey, being a fan of all things debauched, pulls up the band’s subreddit to read about it.

She’s scrolling r/twentyonepilots, looking for said groupie shenanigans, when she comes across a post she’s pretty damn sure doesn’t belong there:

r/twentyonepilots. i.redd.it 2m u/KyloRen94

**Need Assistance - 24 yr old virgin - Am I doing this properly?**

_ What in the actual fuck? _

Rey is familiar enough with Reddit to know that some subreddits kind of become like safe spaces, so it’s not surprising for more active members to bring up personal issues on occasion. The mods are generally cool with allowing a rare off-topic post if the OP is a regular.

But this is a bit much. A lot much, actually. But, maybe it’s normal here. Maybe the Twenty One Pilots fandom has its fair share of awkward virgins and this is par for the course on this sub.

Now, Rey knows she’s here for a story about some crazy thing a girl did with a gourd and a lamp backstage, but curiosity gets the better of her and she clicks the post.

There’s a video preview image on the screen. All she sees is half a grapefruit.

She scrolls down and reads:

_ Hello, everyone. I am really glad I became aware of this subreddit. By way of introduction, I am a 24 year old virgin. _

_ There are several reasons for this, really. I had a rough go of things in my teens and early 20s. My home life was not ideal and I was incredibly introverted because of it. Also, when I say I was unfortunate looking, it’s not an exaggeration. My body was disproportionate—I was too tall and without the proper muscle structure to fill in my frame. I have large ears and through all my formative years my mother insisted that I maintain a short haircut despite my requests to grow it out. To top it all off, I have a very prominent nose. The combination of my generally antisocial personality and my lackluster physical appearance meant relationships, physical and otherwise, were not in the cards for me. _

_ I do not want to turn this into a woe is me situation, I just want to explain my main purpose for being here. _

_ I am in a place now where I feel confident enough in my state of mind and physical appearance to try to pursue a relationship. The problem is, I am terrified of my inexperience. _

_ I have worked really hard to be both emotionally prepared and physically appealing to women, but the fact that I have no idea what I’m doing in the bedroom has kept me from approaching anyone or returning attentions. _

_ I have watched pornography, like many members of my peer group, but simply viewing sexual relations does not take into account the physical element of the sexual act. _

_ So, when I saw videos on Instagram of a woman who uses her fingers to manipulate fruit much in the way one would a vagina, I deduced this would be a good place to start. _

_ I want to become well-versed in all aspects of physical intimacy (fingering being a generally well accepted form of foreplay and also an effective and efficient way to bring a female to orgasm). So, this is my first step. _

_ I have uploaded a video with a grapefruit. I wanted to try a more fibrous and pithy fruit to start with and work my way up to fruits that require a more delicate hand. In this video I’m more focused on the penetration aspect. So, if the ladies here can take a look and leave advice, it would be much appreciated. _

Wow. Okay.

So, under most normal circumstances, Rey would just press the X and get the hell out of there, but she figures maybe she could help the guy out and if she can't, at least it was a crazy story for her dinner party repertoire.

Her mouse clicks the play triangle, and right from the start she knows she’s in trouble.  
  
The first thing she notices is his voice. It’s deep and has a distinctive cadence. It piques her interest. His voice is what keeps her from closing the window, but what has her truly riveted is his hands.  
  
When they make their way into the frame, Rey is immediately struck by their size. They’re fucking huge—the size of small dinner plates with thick fingers and perfectly manicured nails. They make that half a grapefruit look like a tangerine.

They make her thighs clench.  
  
There’s no warning before he’s pushing just one of those fingers in, and the way the fruit gushes around it is obscene. She can hear the squelching of the flesh in between – wait – _what the hell is he saying?_  
  
“Grapefruit is a hybrid originating in Barbados as an accidental cross between two introduced species, sweet orange and pomelo or shaddock. When found, it was named the ‘forbidden fruit.’”  
  
Good god, this guy is fucking weird. The writing on the post made him sound like a living, breathing thought experiment on what never getting laid does to a normal human, but his current recitation of grapefruit fun facts makes that look positively well-adjusted in comparison.  
  
_Fuck it,_ Rey thinks as she’s mesmerized by that finger. She stares as the flesh of the fruit, once tight around him, starts to loosen with every thrust. When he slides in a second digit, Rey has to cross her legs. She feels more than a little weird about how awake her cunt is at the moment, but horniness supersedes decency and she walks over to lock her bedroom door.  
  
She pulls out her headphones and places the laptop in prime viewing position.  
  
When her fingers find their way into her panties, she isn’t surprised to find she’s just as juicy as the grapefruit currently being manhandled on the screen.

Between the timbre of his voice, the visual of the fruit parting for his thickness, and the sound of the fruit squelching as he thrusts in and out, it takes Rey less than 54 seconds to come.   
  
Who’s weirder: the fruit fingerer, or the person who fingers themselves to fruit fingering? Rey doesn’t want to think too much about the answer.  
  
As she closes her laptop, she thinks next time she’ll be a little less aggressive with her ministrations. Make it last a little. Maybe try to make it to the end of the video.  
  
Wait... Next time??

* * *

  
It takes Rey less than a week to go back to the subreddit looking for the post. When she doesn’t find it, she messages a mod feigning interest in the rules for the sub and asking if posts of that nature are allowed. Like maybe _ she _ would like to try her hand at oversharing to the Twenty One Pilots community.

The mod lets her know they don’t allow those types of posts and tells her the OP posted it in error. Instead of posting to r/fingeringfruits, he posted it to r/twentyonepilots. Ouch. Very unfortunate for KyloRen94, but quite fortuitous for Rey. There’s no way in hell she would have found herself on a fruit fingering sub before witnessing the miracle of Kylo and his plate-sized hands.  
  
When Rey makes her way over to the other subreddit, she finds he’s already uploaded a new video. This one is a papaya. This one, he says, is to practice delicacy and finesse.  
  
She wastes no time in rushing over to lock her door and grab her headphones.  
  
This time, Rey lasts 1 minute and 32 seconds.  
  
And so begins a steady stream of fruit and Kylo induced self-love on Rey’s part.  
  
She regularly checks the subreddit for new posts and starts taking an interest in the tidbits of personal info Kylo is dropping in his posts. He’s a graduate student at Chandrila University. She wonders if she’s ever come across him on campus. He doesn’t have many friends, but the ones he does have don’t know he’s a virgin—they’ve made assumptions about him that he just never bothered correcting. He’s estranged from his parents but making inroads to change that. He’s generally an anxious person and reciting the facts is a technique he uses to help with his performance anxiety.

He’s also fastidious to a fault, thus explaining to Rey his seeming urge to become the world’s best fingerfucker. Whatever. She isn’t complaining. She has had more toe-curling orgasms in the few weeks since she came across Kylo, and his voice and hands, than she’s had her entire life up until this point. 

It's not until she’s sitting in her Experimental Physics and Engineering course, fixating on the hands of every guy within thirty feet of her, that Rey realizes she may have a problem.

She’s got a thing for a set of hands that are attached to an anonymous 24-year-old virgin.  
  
After her realization in class, Rey makes a concerted effort to avoid Kylo’s videos—convinced it can’t be healthy to be so obsessed with a stranger’s hands.

The problem, she finds, isn’t so much what she’s not watching as much as what she’s otherwise missing. She’s missing those little tidbits of information he’s been sharing about himself. She wonders if he’s confided in any friends yet. She wonders how his classes are going and if he’s made the leap and called his mom. She wonders if he’s still uploading the videos—if he’s still a virgin, or has he found someone to use his newly minted skills on. She doesn’t like the feeling that this particular thought gives her.

So, like a sailor to a siren song, she’s drawn back to the subreddit and into the unattainable hands of Kylo Ren.

* * *

“Come on, Rey. We’re going to be late,” Rose calls from the living room.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this, so you can just hold on,” Rey bites back.

“Don’t be a jackass today. And get your smile on.”

Maz has roped Rose—and by extension Rey—into manning her furniture booth at the local Farmers and Arts Market. Evidently it’s her and Chewie’s anniversary, and Mon let them borrow her dacha on Lake Sah’ot.

So while Rey has to negotiate with hagglers for a pittance, Maz is busy getting dicked down by a giant in a beautiful lake house.

It only stings a little that her favorite septuagenarian has a better sex life than she does.

“I’ll be on my best behavior for the general public, but you’re getting my cold shoulder for dragging me into this,” Rey says as she meets Rose in the living room.  
  
“Maz says we’ll get 50% of what we manage to sell.”  
  
“I know, I know, but you know I hate these. It’s always a bunch of yuppies who’ve seen too many episodes of Flea Market Flip. Haggling is the worst. It’s so awkward,” Rey gripes.  
  
“Just be nice, for god’s sake. She has a couple big pieces, so if we manage to just sell just one or two, we could make some decent money for a day in the sunshine.”  
  
“A day in the sunshine surrounded by thrifty strangers. Not sure if it’s worth it.”  
  
“Just quit your bitching. We can go out for tacos after.”  
  
“Mmm. Tacos.”

The promise of tacos is all it takes to lift Rey’s mood and put a little pep in her step.  
  
Rey and Rose get to market just in time for setup. They stage the refurbished pieces, get the till ready, and put on their best “we’re hoping you haven’t come across Marie Kondo” smiles.

They sell the first piece before noon. It’s a shabby chic armoire that’s high ticket enough to make the day a wash for Rey. She’s had to sit in the heat and deal with hagglers, but she can afford an obscene amount of tacos once they close up shop for the day.

Rey is arguing with some guy sporting a handlebar mustache about the authenticity of the patina on set of chairs when she hears _ his _ voice.

At first she tells herself she’s wrong. That it can’t possibly be. But, then he speaks again and she’s sure.

“Hey lady, are you even listening to me? Are you sure the chairs haven’t been restained?”

“I’m sorry. I’m going to have my associate help you. Hold on one second.”

Rey briskly walks over to Rose who’s counting the till.

“Rose, you have to help me. Take this customer.”

“What? Why?” She lowers her voice, “Is he an asshole or something?”

“No. I mean, yes, but just the usual handlebar mustache kind of asshole. He isn’t mean or anything. Anyway, can you take him? Rosie, please.”

“Okay, okay.”

Rey is already starting to make her way toward the booth behind theirs when she hears Rose call out, “Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to check on something, I’ll be back in a few!”

Rey keeps her ears open. She doesn’t hear him anymore, but she’s absolutely certain his voice was coming from this direction. She’s starting to get nervous he’s gone already, pushing shoppers out of the way in a rush to get to the row behind theirs.

As she rounds the corner she hears his voice and her eyes instantly find him. It’s not hard to do, what with the way he towers above anyone else she can see. He’s so tall and broad and god, Rey hasn’t even seen his face and she already wants to touch him.

“Listen, I just want to make absolutely sure the mangoes are organic and locally sourced,” he says.

“I already told you dude. They’re local and organic. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Do you have a manifest of some sort that tells you which farm the fruit originated from?”

“Seriously, buddy?”

“Well, yes. I’m certain you must. What if there’s an _ E. coli _ scare or some other pathogen makes its way onto the fruit and makes people sick? There has to be a way to track for the source of the outbreak.”

“Okay, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re going to scare off my other customers talking about fucking E. coli. Get, dude!” the diminutive shopkeeper says while shooing this tree of a man away.

“This is extremely ineffective business practice on your part. I am in search of a steady supply of fresh produce and you’re losing a potentially lucrative customer.”

“I don’t need your business, man. I can tell you’re more trouble than you’re worth. Now get away from my booth before I call security or something.”

The man—_Kylo_—steps back from the booth then. He starts to make his way down the row and Rey speed walks to catch up with him and pounces.

“Hey,” she says, looking up at him.

He keeps walking at his brisk pace, not even bothering to look towards Rey.

“So, I didn’t mean to be nosy, but I heard you talking to the fruit guy, and I heard you couldn’t get your mangoes.”

That’s when he hazards a glance in her direction. She catches his eye and he literally stops in his tracks.

She can see his face now. It’s beautiful—deep, honey-brown eyes, plush lips, a smattering of moles. The nose he called prominent, Rey recognizes as ideally suited for sitting on.

“Yeah,” he says.

He’s still just staring at her, standing stock still in the middle of the row. They’re impeding traffic, which Rey absolutely hates normally, but she can’t find it in herself to mind when he’s looking at her like that.

“Well, there’s another produce stand on row H. I actually usually go to that booth because they’re a little cheaper, but the quality is just as good.”

“Okay,” he says as he _ just stares. _

“Well, I mean I could take you there. If you want.”

The words hang in the air for what are probably seconds, but feel like minutes of silence. Rey loses her nerve.

“You know what, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”

“No! No. Please. It’s okay. Yes, I think an escort would be an excellent idea. I’m unfamiliar with the layout,” he says as he fidgets.

That’s when her eyes come down and she sees _ them_. The hands she’s fucked herself to for months now. She wants to put his fingers in her mouth and suck. She wonders what they taste like. She clenches her thighs and offers her hand.

“Hi, I’m Rey.”

“I’m Ben.”

_ Ben_.

Rey smiles. Well, Ben, follow me.


	2. Chapter 2

Rey is leading Ben to the fruit stand_. _

_ Ben_—the absolute unit of a man, whose entire body is wholly proportional to the giant hands and girthy fingers she’s lusted over for months.

Well, she certainly hopes his _ entire _ body is proportional. God willing, those hands and enormous feet are a harbinger of good things to come if she manages to get this massive man’s pants off.

_ When _ she manages to get them off. _ Positive thoughts. _

Ben,_ very climbable _ Ben—who is practically more Ent than man—hasn’t said a single word on the way to Row H. This would normally make Rey nervous. She’s not one for awkward silences, preferring to fill them with _ something_. But, Rey finds she is perfectly content to keep her mouth shut, so long as Ben keeps looking at her the way he is.

She can’t help but notice that every time she hazards a glance in his direction, he’s _ staring _ at her. His gaze is single-minded, but still shy. Every time she catches him, his cheeks flush, his ears pink and he quickly averts his eyes. 

Even still, when he is looking at her, he looks hungry—and not for mangoes.

_ Speaking of… _

“So,” she says, drawing out the “o”. “You take your mangoes very seriously.” She shoots a smile in his direction.

Rey has a pretty good idea that the mangoes he just went full-on FDA inspector about aren’t for actual consumption—they’re for defiling.

She can’t possibly say anything to that effect, though, because how do you bring up to someone you’ve just met that just the thought of the circumference of their forefinger makes all your holes clench?

“What?” he asks, seemingly too distracted with his staring to hear what she just said.

“The mangoes—you were really _ specific_.”

“Oh, yes,” he says with a curt nod. “I prefer organic and locally sourced. I want to know where my fruit comes from. Plus, I find them to be more supple.”

Just the way he says _ supple _ is enough to make her cunt throb.

“Are you this passionate about all fruit or just mangoes?” Rey asks, as her mind cycles through the wide array of fruit she’s recently seen him knuckle deep in.

“I’ve been more particular about my produce as of late.”

“As of late. Any special reason?”

The way Ben blushes, Rey knows she’s needling for something she isn’t going to get. There’s no way buttoned-up Ben is revealing his fruit fingerfucking sideline.

“Well, I’m—It’s just—” She can see him thinking. His eyes are not on her for the first time since she walked up to him and introduced herself.

Luckily for Ben, they reach the fruit stand in Row H before he has to come up with a decent excuse for his supple fruit predilections.

“So, this is it,” Rey says, extending her hand in the direction of the stand like some sort of horny Vanna White.

“Oh, well thank you, um, Rey. I really appreciate your assistance.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” she says as she lingers.

Rey was so high on the thought of his fingers when she ran out of her booth and chased after him, that she didn’t have the time to formulate a plan besides_ find the hands_. She can see he’s already so skittish and she doesn’t want to scare him off, but the thought of leaving without at least trying to get him someplace that’s not the farmers market is one she simply can’t abide.

She’s going to give him exactly half a minute to take some initiative and do something himself, before she throws herself at his at least size 13, feet.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Ben.” She extends her hand for another handshake, relishing the feeling of his hand dwarfing hers, just in case this really is the last she sees of him.

“Yes. Very Nice. To meet you, I mean.”

Her brain starts the countdown to T-minus _ throw yourself at the giant man’s giant feet _but, gloriously, Ben breaks the silence before any grovelling commences.

“Rey, perhaps—” he starts before stopping and staring at his wringing hands. His short sleeves do him all sorts of favors. His hands, well, they’re exquisite—they’re why she’s here, really—but his forearms and his biceps are a fucking revelation. Rey has never had sex standing up, but she has no question Ben could change that. Arms like that are ideally suited for heaving her up and fucking her up against a wall. She’s sure of it. “Rey, maybe I could take you out. As a thank you... for the mangoes.”

Relief floods in and the elated smile she gives him rushes out of her unbidden. When his eyes move from his nervous hands to her face and he sees her reaction, the smile he gives her in return is full and, oh, his teeth are crooked and the corner of his eyes crinkle in the most perfect way and Rey feels a tightening in her chest. There’s excitement there, for sure, but she’s mostly taken aback by how _ sweet _ he looks. How innocent.

This man—this unequivocally beautiful man—looks so happy for just the chance to take her out. She knows what she was looking for out of this, namely to break her unforgivably long dry spell with an expert fingerer, but now she’s keenly aware that his crooked-toothed smile has the potential for danger written all over it. She likes it too much already—wants him to do it again. And again.

“I’d really like that, Ben.”

“Wow! Really? Oh, good. That’s wonderful,” he says through his wide smile, and she can hear the surprise in his voice. He really has no idea how affecting he is—how appealing he’d be to nearly any lady with functioning eyeballs, and that fact just serves to turn her on to him even more.

Silence descends once again, and when he suddenly gets a bit of a deer in headlights look about him, Rey remembers that he doesn’t do this sort of thing. She steps in to maybe offer a bit of guidance.

“Um, maybe we could exchange numbers? And then you can call or text when you’d like to meet up,” she offers while pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“How about tomorrow evening?” he asks. His words come out in a jumbled rush.

It’s been months since Rey’s been on a date. Much longer since she finished a date the way she’s hoping her date with Ben will end. So, she was definitely counting on having a little time for mental preparation and (based on the look of him) maybe some targeted stretching, before this went down—but Rey isn’t about to look the gift horse that is sweet, nervous Ben in his impossibly full mouth and say no.

“Tomorrow night sounds good. You have something in mind?”

His face blanks. His eyes wander wildly for a couple seconds, looking at anything but Rey—and then he half croaks, half shouts, “BOWLING!”

“_ B-Bowling_?” Rey is thoroughly confused. Bowling is definitely a _ different _ sort of date. She honestly can’t think of anything _ less _ erotic than bowling. But who knows, maybe his mitt-sized hands make him an accomplished bowler and he’s trying to impress her? She isn’t sure, and she’s surprised, but she tries to hide her shock and feign enthusiasm instead. “Bowling! Yes, that sounds fun!”

“Oh. Okay. Great. I can text you later and let you know the location. If that is alright with you?” he asks with a wonderful nervous excitement in his voice.

“Sure. Yeah. That’s great.”

* * *

After she and Rose pack up the booth for the day, Rey gets a text from Ben with the location of a bowling alley she is vaguely familiar with. The excitement of the promise of the next night has her so keyed up she’s desperate to get home. She even takes a raincheck on the tacos she’d been looking forward to, promising Rose she’ll go with her next time.

Instead of joining Rose, she makes her way home and rushes to check the subreddit, hoping Ben has put his farmers market purchases to good use. A little mango two-finger tango would be the perfect thing to tide her over until she _ hopefully _gets the real thing tomorrow night.

When she scrolls through, she sees that there’s no new video from Ben, but there is a post.

r/fingeringfruits. i.redd.it 23m u/KyloRen94

**Something a little different **

_ Hello everyone, _

_ I don’t have a new video yet, although I was able to find some perfectly ripened mangoes that I will feature in the next upload. I’ll record and post tomorrow morning. _

_ I’m actually here today with a different sort of query. You guys have been so understanding of my situation and have provided indispensable advice so far. _

_ I have some exciting news. I met a girl today. She was objectively very attractive, AND she helped me find a fruit stand that took the documentation of point of origin of its wares seriously. _

_ In any case, I mustered up enough courage to ask her out, and I’m elated to report that she said yes. _

_ Where I faltered was the type of date I suggested_.

_ I asked her to go bowling. _

_ Asking someone on a date wasn’t a to-do item in the bullet journal for the day, so I was totally unprepared for the task. _

_ When she seemed like she might be walking away, I panicked and asked her out before she could leave. She asked me what I had in mind, and the truth is, I was so nervous that she was even talking to me, I couldn’t think of anything. So, when I spied the bowling-ball sized pomelos at the fruit stand, I just blurted out bowling. _

_ She seemed really enthusiastic about it though, so I felt it would be ill-mannered to rescind the offer of bowling in exchange for something else. _

_ Now I find myself in a bind, because I have never been bowling in my life. I’ve mentioned here before that competitive sports were always anxiety inducing as a child, and, more often than not, resulted in nervous nosebleeds. Therapy and a gym membership have helped stem the nosebleed issue, but I am concerned about embarrassing myself. _

_ Under normal circumstances I would research effective bowling techniques online, and then visit an alley for hands on experience beforehand. Unfortunately, I was so frightened she’d change her mind about going out with me if I gave her too much time to think about it that I suggested tomorrow night. _

_ I will still have time to search through tutorials, but I have class tomorrow so there’s no way I can get any actual bowling in before I see her again. _

_ She was really very beautiful and I don’t want to make a fool out of myself in front of her. I don’t know what I should do. _

_ Any advice would be appreciated. TIA _

Any residual horniness Rey was experiencing as a result of meeting Ben instantly unravels. Instead she feels guilt. Reading this post feels like a violation of his privacy in a way watching the videos hadn’t. Maybe it’s because it’s vulnerable. Maybe it’s because it’s about her. Maybe it’s because after meeting him today, Ben feels like a real person to her now. Either way, she has to tell Ben the truth as soon as she’s able.

Rey shuts her laptop and sends Rose a text that she’ll be joining her for tacos after all.

She wants to try to salvage this. She’ll tell him everything when she sees him tomorrow night.

As she’s walking out the door to meet Rose, a thought enters her mind—

_ He called me beautiful. _

* * *

Rey is not a punctual person. This is a fact that can be attested to by every person in her immediate circle, which is why her showing up to the bowling alley a whole 20 minutes before Ben asked to meet is _ highly _ uncharacteristic of her. Nerves kept her awake last night and nerves had her distracted all day in class.

How is she going to tell Ben that she knows exactly what he does with his mangoes? She’s been thinking about it all night and day, and makes her final decision while sitting at the sticky snack counter. Her best bet is to just come out and say it. Be honest—but _ after _ the bowling.

She really hopes she can win him over before she tells him the truth. Maybe the balm of a successful date can soothe whatever sting she causes him with her admission. She thinks about his posts. Not just the one from last night, but all the ones before. The ones that gave her a peek into his life. The ones she _ missed _ when she tried to quit his videos cold turkey. He seems unassuming and kind of awkwardly sweet, and Rey thinks she might actually want him to _ like _ her, not just fuck her.

When Ben walks through the doors—10 minutes early—he looks delectable. He’s squeezed his broad shoulders and firm biceps into a pair of jeans and a green Henley that looks tailor made to accentuate every delicious ripple his gym membership has afforded him.

He smiles broadly when he sees her, all crooked teeth and dimples, and it’s hard to reconcile that goofy grin with the grandiose language in all of his posts.

Rey hops from her stool at the counter and damn near skips over to him, excitement at what the night potentially has in store overwhelming the anxiety she was just feeling before she saw that smile.

“You look really nice,” she chirps.

He looks down at his outfit and over at hers and says, “Thanks. You look really nice too.” She doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on the modest cleavage she’s managed to eek out. Rey also may have worn her best pair of jeans for this occasion. The jeans that perfectly accentuate what is inarguably her best asset.

“So, I believe it’s best that I am upfront with you and let you know that I have never been bowling before. I may be very horrible. Please don’t hold it against me.” He says it with a smile, but Rey can instantly see that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

She thinks back to his post from last night and realizes he’s genuinely nervous—about _ bowling. _She rushes to reassure him. “I haven’t been bowling in years. Trust me, we’ll both probably look like idiots out there, but I think that’s part of the fun of it.” She gives him her most heartening smile and grabs his arm to lead him to the counter with the bowling shoe attendant.

She can feel the warmth of him—can feel the firmness of his corded forearm—through the Henley as they walk, and Rey would be a damn liar if she said she doesn’t delight in the shocked look Ben gives her when he stares down at where her hand grasps him. “Come on. Let’s get some stinky shoes and go make fools of ourselves.”

He smiles—and this time the smile is exactly everything it should be: wide and toothy and infectious. Rey can’t help but smile back.

When they get to the counter, the attendant doesn’t even bother looking up from what Rey eyes and determines is a sudoku puzzle.

“What size shoes?” he huffs. The reading glasses perched on his nose slide as he brings his face even closer to his puzzle in concentration.

Ben answers first. “Fifteen.”

_ Holy shit. _ Rey nearly swallows her tongue.

The attendant’s eyes quickly snap up to meet Ben’s, then travel back down—sizing him up head to toe.

Once he seems satisfied that Ben is, in fact, that _fucking_ _big_, he says, “Sorry, bud. We only go up to 13.” He then props the glasses on top of his head before bending over the counter to peer at Ben’s sneakers. “But you can wear those, it’ll be fine. Just be careful when releasing the ball. Those won’t allow much give.”

Ben looks flustered. “Oh, okay, sure.” He slouches slightly and shoves his hands in his pockets and Rey can’t help but think he’s trying with all his might to will himself to be _ smaller_. She thinks back to his online confessions. Remembers his concerns about being _ disproportionate_. All the bits of him are certainly proportionate now—it’s just that the proportions are all _ giant_.

She reaches over and lays a reassuring hand on his arm. “It’s fine,” she lowers her voice, her tone taking on a conspiratorial bent before continuing, “just think, you won’t have to endure the possible pathogens associated with shoes a million strangers have worn.” She gives his arm a couple squeezes and lets go as soon as she sees his tension lessen and his back straighten.

“What about you, pretty lady?” the attendant interrupts.

“Size 7.”

He turns around and grabs her a pair of shoes from a shelf near the bottom before setting them on the counter haphazardly and going right back to his sudoku. “You guys are on lane 12.”

“Okay, thanks,” Rey says. She takes a seat on the small bench next to the station and slips on her shoes before they both head in the direction of lane 12.

They get to the last landing before the sunken seating area for their lane, and now it’s time for balls. There’s a large ball rack, each shelf filled with colorful bowling balls in a variety of weights and sizes.

Rey is distracted by the veritable smorgasbord of balls in front of her, when Ben steps in closer, his mouth nearer her ear, like he’s about to tell her some salacious secret and doesn’t want any eavesdroppers.

“We’re supposed to choose a ball that is comfortable to carry and maneuver, but that is also heavy enough to knock the pins over. Each pin weighs 2.8 pounds which means you want something that can create enough energy to knock them all down.”

Just the way he says it reminds her of his fruit-fact recitations and she has to clench her thighs together. This man is the hottest awkward nerd in the history of awkward nerds.

Rey can’t help the crook in the corners of her mouth. “Oh yeah? Where’d you hear that?”

“Honestly? I was concerned about making a fool out of myself in front of you so I may have done a little research.”

“Research? For bowling? That is very thorough of you,” she says, keeping her tone light. She wishes she hadn't asked the question because his answer only serves to remind her that she’s got to tell him the truth tonight. She shakes the thought away and focuses on just trying to have a good time.

“I—” He pauses, and Rey looks at him then. He averts his eyes before continuing. “I _ really _ wanted to make a good impression.”

“Well, good impression made,” she says with a smile. “Now, let’s pick some balls!”

She grabs a ball off the top shelf and sets it back immediately. It’s far too light. She doesn’t bowl, but she’s thinking about Ben’s advice when she looks for a higher pound ball. “What pound ball are you going to use?” she asks.

“Well, the average adult male will use a ball that weighs between 14 and 16 pounds.”

“So, definitely _ at least _ 16 pounds for you then.”

He looks at her curiously, apparently not quite getting her meaning.

“Your arms, Ben. Those arms are definitely _ above _ average. Sixteen pounds … at least_.” _

She doesn’t think she will ever tire of making him blush so fiercely. It’s practically intoxicating the way his face flushes. There’s this specific mole right on his neck near his Adam’s apple and as the flush rushes past it, her eyes are drawn to it and she just wants to—_lick. _

“Oh. Um, thank you. For the compliment. Your arms are very … nice too,” he says.

Rey can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “Thanks, Ben.”

He smiles back, nervously working his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this.”

“You’re doing great. Just relax. There’s no pressure, okay?”

He nods his head and then bends down to grab a ball off the bottom shelf of the ball rack. Rey sees the “16” emblazoned on the side, white lettering against the dark red ball, and smiles. “How does it feel?”

“Good,” he says moving it back and forth between his hands. The sight of his dinner-plate-size hands handling the large ball with such ease is enough to make her think of all the other things he’s fondled with those hands—the deft way his fingers part the fruit, the way the juice gushes around the rim of his fingers when he pushes into the flesh. Now she’s the one who flushes.

“How about you?” he asks staring at the iridescent blue ball in her hand.

She flips it around to get a better look at the weight. “This one is 11 pounds. Feels good to me.”

“Okay, perfect. Shall we?” he asks, while motioning to the seating area at their lane.

Rey makes her way down the few steps and puts her ball into the ball return before turning back and taking one of the two seats directly in front of the scoring console. Ben does the same.

“You know how to work this thing?” he asks. It’s not at all condescending when he says it, but Rey can't help her instinctual reaction and she scoffs. “I’m an engineering major. I’m sure I can figure it out.” She’s used to people, especially men, questioning her abilities. She senses Ben isn’t that kind of guy, and everything he’s done so far emphasizes that fact, but the words are out before she can measure them.

He doesn’t seem bothered by her unintentionally curt tone and presses further. “You are? At Chandrila U?”

Rey nods while typing their names into the console. She enters the information and can hear the whirl as the ball return comes to life. The pinsetter’s arm comes down and ten shiny pins are placed at the end of their lane. That’s it. This is really happening. _ Bowling_—as a date—with one of the most awkward, but still insanely hot, guys she’s ever seen—and all before she has to tell him she gets off to videos of him fingering fruit. What the fuck even is her life right now? Oh well, at least it’s not boring.

“That’s cool,” Ben says pulling her out of her musings. “I go to CU too. Nothing as cool as engineering, though. I’m studying actuarial science,” he says with a shrug.

“You don’t seem excited about it.”

“It’s a profession. And I’m good with facts and figures. I don’t know—it was just a natural fit. Not much exciting about it, but I’m not sure how many actuaries are in it for excitement,” he says with a smile.

“Well, you know what _ is _ exciting?”

He looks at her then, head tilted, and _ oh _ —his eyes drop and he’s staring at her mouth, and maybe she can’t help licking her bottom lip _ just then_, and when her eyes find his again, that hungry look from the market is back and _ god _ she wants him. But, just like that, it’s like he remembers who he is and the shyness is back.

He clears his throat and shakes his head. “What is?” he asks.

Rey’s brain may be broken because she has no idea what question he’s asking or why he’s asking it. “I’m sorry. What?”

“You said something was exciting.”

She regains lucidity and remembers what she was going to say before he ogled her mouth and crashed her train of thought. “Oh! Right! It’s your first time!” It takes Rey just a second to realize what she’s said and she scrambles. “Bowling—I mean! Your first time bowling. That's what I meant. That’s exciting.”

“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, I’m up first, so I’m just going to—” He points in the direction of the lane, right before he stands and heads that way. Rey may or may not stare at what’s probably spectacular ass that’s hidden under those jeans.

He picks up his ball and starts walking toward the red line delineating the start of the lane, when he suddenly stops. He’s got his back to Rey and he’s staring at what she presumes is the ball in his hand. Just _ standing there_. Not moving. Rey is just about to call out and ask him if something is wrong when she hears a distinctive “_Fuck_” over the din of the other bowlers.

Rey quickly stands up and practically runs to where he’s standing. “Hey, Ben, is everything okay?”

He’s still staring at the ball in his hand, and when he looks up at her she swears he almost looks like he’s about to cry. Her heart skips a beat, and she’s suddenly desperate to find out and _ fix _whatever is bothering him. She lays a reassuring hand on his arm. “What’s going on, Ben?”

“This is so embarrassing. _ God_. I’m so sorry, Rey. Can we just go?”

She has no idea what’s happening. She thinks maybe it’s his anxiety, but if he wants to leave she will run out of here with him as long as it wipes that anguished expression off his face. “Yeah. Absolutely. Whatever you want.”

He drops his ball at the ball return and Rey changes back into her shoes before they make their way back up to the attendant’s station in silence.

“Everything okay?” the attendant asks as Rey sets her shoes on the counter. “You know there’s no refunds once the game starts.”

“We know. Everything is fine, I just don’t feel well,” Rey lies. Ben turns to look at her with what is maybe relief in his eyes.

“Okay. Just so long as you don’t want your money back. Well, you two have a good night, I guess.”

They walk out the doors of the bowling alley, and the fact that he hasn’t said a single word since the incident on the lane is starting to worry her.

They make it down to the sidewalk before he finally breaks the silence. “Hey, Rey, I’m really sorry about this. I know you were looking forward to it and I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin it. Whatever happened in there, it’s okay. I mean I don’t even bowl, I came here for you. I swear it’s not a big deal.”

“You came here for me?” he asks. She nods her head. The tension in his shoulders eases, and they sag a bit. He continues, “This is so incredibly embarrassing. I went to bowl and … my fingers—they wouldn’t fit. In the holes. And I just thought my stupid fingers ruined the whole evening.”

_ Good god. They wouldn’t fit in the holes. _ The anxiety Rey was feeling a second ago instantly vanishes. Rey is now equal parts incredibly horny and resolved. This is fixable. Fixable with the truth. “Ben. Seriously, it’s no big deal. I—well, I happen to like your hands. I _ like _ how big they are. To be totally honest, it’s actually really hot.” She quickly reaches out and grabs his hand with hers, entwining their fingers.

He stands stock-still staring at where her hand sits in his. “Okay.”

When it’s all he manages to say, Rey decides she’s taking the reins for the rest of this evening. “Do you want to call it a night? If you’re upset and would rather—”

“No!” He nearly shouts and then cringes at his volume. “Sorry. No, I don’t want to end the evening.”

“Excellent.” She smiles and squeezes his hand. It’s big and warm and grounding. “Then come with me.”

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the amazing [nad-vaa](https://mobile.twitter.com/nad_vaa?locale=gl) for this sweet piece of Rey and Ben after their bowling “date.”

They’re holding hands. Ben’s fingers are entwined with hers, and Rey is _ so _ elated she feels like she could float off at any second. Luckily, she’s tethered by the fingers to the human equivalent of a Giant Sequoia.

She has thought about these fingers in all manner of ways—admittedly, the vast majority of them carnal—for more time than she’s thought of the actual dicks of her previous boyfriends. That’s how all-encompassing her Ben Solo finger fascination has been. So holding hands with him now is something akin to a religious experience for her, and given her druthers, Rey would gladly worship at the altar of Ben Solo’s very girthy fingers for all the rest of her days. But, there’s something she has to do first.

Rey hasn’t quite formulated the exact verbiage she wants to use when she has the chance to sit Ben down and tell him about the circumstances of their meeting. She doesn’t think _ So Ben, I’ve gotten off to the videos of you fingering fruit more than I’ve gotten off to _ actually _ being fingered, and that’s why I chased you down in a farmer’s market _is going to cut it.

It does seem like Ben is enjoying this whole handholding development even more than she is, if that’s at all possible. He keeps stealing glances at their entwined fingers, bringing them up to get a better view in the streetlights, and smiling_—_really _ smiling_. It’s so unabashed and big, she’s able to spy his dimples for the first time, and Rey knows then that she is well and truly fucked over this guy. How happy he is at just this, just holding hands with her, is almost unbearably sweet. It makes her stomach flutter, it makes her heart lurch, and it makes her mind race. She has to sit down and talk with him soon. Rey is a practical person above all else and she’s getting nervous about just how much she’s enjoying these smiles of his.

Ben and Rey make it to the parking lot, hand in hand, when he breaks the silence to ask, “So, what did you have in mind?” _ Fingering _ her mind supplies rather unhelpfully, considering her current situation. That’s definitely putting the cart before the horse.

“I know a place we can go and I think it might suit you.” She wants to take him someplace she thinks he can shine. He was obviously not too keen on bowling as a premise or in practice, and so she’s hoping to put him at ease by continuing the date with an activity he’s tailor-made for: Trivia. His recitation of random facts was something she remembers his Reddit posts said calmed him when he was feeling anxious.

“Suit me?” He sounds maybe a bit surprised.

“Yeah. There’s this small pub in Junari Point. They have a Trivia night tonight. I figured you would absolutely clean up. Between the bowling facts, your penchant for research and your actuarial science brain, I thought it might be in your wheelhouse. Plus, this place is not as crowded as the pubs in the city, so it’s quieter, and we could chat a bit too.”

It takes just a few seconds of awkward silence and Ben running his free hand through his hair three whole times—something that seems to be a nervous tic of his, before she realizes her trivia night idea is a bust.

“That’s really kind that you thought of me like that, and I’m definitely agreeable to the idea—I’m just not so sure I’m up for it tonight,” he says.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“I’m really sorry, Rey.”

“It’s perfectly alright. I promise. You don’t need to apologize.”

He smiles again, and the dimples make a reappearance, and just seeing them relaxes her a bit. “I do think it would be fun. I’d like to go—with you—another night, hopefully, if the offer will still stand. I’m just not in the mood for being around groups of people right now. I don’t—well, I don’t do this very much, so it’s been a little overwhelming. Plus, if I’m being quite honest, the bowling ball incident still has me a little frazzled. But—well, I’m just glad the night isn’t over. I appreciate you allowing me the opportunity to fix this.”

“Ben, there really isn’t anything to _ fix. _If there’s something else you’d rather do, my night is free, and I’m really open to anything.”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place to watch a film.”

“Ben Solo, are you asking me to Netflix and chill with you?” Rey says jokingly.

“Yes. I suppose I am. If you’re amenable to that, of course.”

Judging by his earnest answer, and the visible confusion on his face about her joking tone, Rey is a million percent sure that Ben hasn’t the slightest idea what Netflix and chilling actually entails. But, going back to his place is perfect. It will be quiet, so she won’t have to fight over someone else’s conversation when she spills her secret. The last thing she needs is someone from campus with too keen an ear hearing her admit she’s a permanent fixture at the r/fingeringfruits subreddit. Also, she has a feeling he’d rather be at his place because he’d be more comfortable—more relaxed—and relaxed is a better frame of mind to be in for receiving this kind of information.

“I am definitely amenable to that,” Rey says.

* * *

They get off the elevator and they’re still holding hands. Ben wouldn’t let go for the entire car ride to his place—not that she’s complaining.

He opens the door to his apartment and when she walks in, Rey is first struck by how ridiculously neat it is for a guy’s place. Her apartment with Rose isn’t even this neat, and Rose is constantly _ picking up a little _ for whenever Finn comes over, and he’s over practically every night now. Ben’s a single man in college, and yet she’s pretty sure she could eat off the hardwood floors. But, then she supposes she shouldn’t be all that surprised, because even though he’s a single man in college, he’s still bullet-journal Ben.

It’s a nice place, comfortable, with everything, obviously, in its place.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors, so sorry for the state of things.” Rey has to hold back a chuckle. If this goes well, and he agrees to see her again, she is never ever bringing Ben Solo to her apartment. He’s liable to have a traumatic episode if he sees the state of her bathroom mirror. God help him if he ever looks under her bed.

“It’s beautiful, actually. So uh, clean.”

“I like to keep things orderly. Anyway, would you like a drink?” He lumbers into the kitchen, and Rey follows. _ God, why does he walk like that? _ Rey can’t be sure, but she has a hypothesis. Her if/then postulation: If Ben Solo walks like that, then Ben Solo is packing some major heat. She would very much like to see if this is born out with evidence.

“Sure. That’d be nice.”

“I’ve got water, orange juice and tea. I could also whip you up a smoothie, if you’d like. I bought this really well-reviewed blender recently. It can mix any fruit at all with no residual gritty texture.” He seems so incredibly _ happy _ about that fact, and Rey nearly chokes on her tongue because now she knows what happens to all that fruit after he’s had his way with it.

The new revelation has her feeling a little heady—thinking of him _ consuming _ the fruit after he’s fingered it, makes her feel flush—so it takes a second for her brain to register that he asked her a question, and is now staring at her waiting for an answer. “Oh, no need for a smoothie. Water is fine. Thanks.” She involuntarily presses her thighs together when she sees the remaining mangoes from his purchase at the market sitting in a bowl on the counter. She knows he uploaded a mango video last night, but she was feeling too guilty to partake. Her current level of horny anxiety is making her regret that decision. It probably would have taken the edge off.

He hands her a bottle and motions to the couch. “We can have a seat, if you want. I can start the movie.”

“Sounds good. Would it be okay if I used the restroom first?” Rey needs a second to collect herself. There’s a weird amalgam of thoughts running through her head _ please don’t stop smiling, please show me how you use your fingers, please let me kiss your mouth, please don’t hate me_. She needs to calm herself down.

He points out the door, and she makes her way there while he gets comfortable on the couch.

His bathroom is as clean as the rest of the apartment—not even a stray strand of that amazing hair of his. She runs the water and takes a few deep, calming breaths. She can do this. She likes him. She wants him to like her, and she’s starting to think he _ might_. She absolutely cannot start anything with him without being completely forthright. Rey steels herself and makes her way back to the living room.

When she gets to the couch, and takes a seat, she can tell something is wrong. His expression is nervous and concerned and nothing like it was a few minutes ago.

“Rey, can I be honest with you?” The question makes Rey’s heart beat faster. _ She _ is the one who has to be honest. The knot that was in her stomach all last night—the knot that unraveled once she was _ with _ him—talking and laughing and holding hands—that knot is back with a vengeance.

“Of course. You can tell me anything.” She braces herself for what he’s about to say. Does he know? Has he somehow found out?

“So, I googled ‘Netflix and chill’ while you were in the restroom, because I felt like I may have been missing something when you said it earlier. Your tone was somewhat _ flirtatious_, maybe. Anyway, I need you to know that that was not my intention when I invited you back here. I didn't realize it was a euphemism. I invited you here because there’s an excellent documentary on the Aquala Tower on Coruscant in my queue. I thought you might enjoy it considering your major. It’s really an engineering marvel. Have you heard of it?” He’s barely breathing between his words, and Rey can tell he’s legitimately concerned she’s questioning his motivations for his invitation.

She reaches out and grabs his hand while closing the space in between them. “Ben, it’s okay. I was just _ kidding_,” she says with a smile and a reassuring squeeze of his hand.

“Oh.” He lets out a deep breath. “Okay. I suppose that’s good.”

“You suppose?”

“Sorry,” he says nervously. “I mean to say that it is good.”

Rey’s anxiousness about telling him the truth must read on her face because suddenly his demeanor changes. Now _ he _ is leaning in to comfort _ her_. He squeezes her hand while saying, “That’s not to say I wouldn’t want to—you know—_Netflix and chill _ with you. I would. Very much so. When you would like to, of course. Objectively you are very beautiful and subjectively you are also very kind. I’m not saying it has to be tonight—the _ chilling_—just that I am certainly agreeable to the idea of it. When you’re ready.”

Rey realizes her anxiety must have read as assumed rejection. But, she can’t even correct him before, “You are? Agreeable to it?” comes flying out of her mouth.

He looks at her lips again, and he’s _ so _ close. There isn’t much space at all separating his mouth from hers. _ Beautiful. Kind. _She’d hardly have to lean in.

Rey shakes away the thought.

“Certainly. It’s just—well, bowling ball incident aside, I had a great deal of fun tonight. I don’t really have much fun, ever, so I’d wager a decent bet that this was actually the most fun I’ve ever had—with another person. I thought I’d be intimidated, but you’re surprisingly easy to talk to. And I really enjoyed the handholding—a lot,” he adds shyly. “But, bearing this in mind, I feel like I should share a bit of information that may be relevant to how the remainder of the evening goes, if _ chilling _with me is your intention.”

She knows. Rey knows exactly what he’s going to say. He’s going to spill his guts about being a virgin, because he’s honest and _ good. _ And Rey feels like the worst. She can’t let him lay his heart out like that. She has to tell him the truth first. Even if it means he wants nothing to do with her for not saying something earlier—for chasing him down in a farmer’s market like he was some fat-fingered prey.

“Ben, wait. I also have to tell you something.” Rey takes a few seconds to gain her composure. She takes a deep breath and braces herself for what could be any number of reactions from him, when he suddenly interjects, breaking the silence.

“Rey, you’re making me really nervous. Did I do something wrong? Should I not have said I wanted to _ chill _ with you? Was it too forward? Did I make you uncomfortable? Oh, god.”

“Ben, no. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re amazing, really. It was _ me_. I did something wrong.”

“But, you didn’t. You were perfect. _ Everything _ was perfect. Aside from the whole bowling ball fiasco. And you were even understanding about that.”

“Can I say some things and you just listen for a little bit? I want to get this all out. Like ripping off a bandaid.”

“Of course. Go right ahead.”

“Ben, I need to be honest with you about something, and whatever your reaction to what I’m about to tell you, just know it’s valid and you can be completely honest with me. I’ll accept it.”

He nods his head, whether in agreement or in an effort to get her to continue, she isn’t sure, but it doesn’t really matter, because Rey forges ahead. “That day in the farmer’s market, I didn’t come across you by chance.” Ben doesn’t say a word, but she can see confusion written on his face. “I heard your voice and went after you. You see, I recognized your voice from online. From your videos on Reddit.” 

“Rey. Please let me explain—”

“Wait, just let me finish.”

“I’m sorry. Right. Go ahead.”

“Ben, I’ve been watching your videos since the very first one you posted. I guess I kind of developed a bit of an infatuation with your hands—with _ you_—and when I heard your voice in the market yesterday, I just had to meet you. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything earlier, and I’m really sorry if this whole thing is creepy. I’m open to answer any questions, or if you just want me to get out of here, I can do that too. Okay. That’s it. I’m done.” Rey isn’t quite sure what to make of the look on his face. She doesn’t give him more than a couple seconds before she asks, “Are you mad?” 

“I’m not _ mad_, Rey. I’m just a little embarrassed. When I made those videos I just imagined a bunch of random faceless people watching them. I didn’t really imagine someone like you watching me.” The relief she feels that he isn’t angry with her is overwhelming, but the fact that he feels embarrassed, stings nonetheless.

“I didn’t either. I mean to say, when I first saw your video, I wasn’t exactly looking for it. I was on a Twenty One Pilots subreddit.”

“Yes. That whole situation was an unfortunate oversight on my behalf. But, why? Why were you watching them? Were you… Are you trying to get better at fingering, too?” He really is an angel. And angel with no concept of the absolutely depraved things she’s done to herself because of those videos.

“No. I’m not trying to get better at fingering. I wasn’t looking for that kind of video _ at first_, but then I saw your hands and they were so big, and your fingers were so thick and _ god _ your voice. It just… it really turned me on—so I kept watching. I’m sorry. I should have said something earlier, I just couldn’t really think of a way to approach it. It’s not exactly a typical topic of discussion when you first meet someone.”

“Wait. You were watching them because you were turned on?” He sounds absolutely astonished.

“Yes.”

“You were turned on by _ my _videos?”

“I was turned on by _ you_. I know I couldn’t see your face, but your fingers, and your voice, and the way you worked the fruit, even your reason for wanting to practice—that you were committed to pleasing the woman you were eventually with… it was all so insanely hot.”

“Wow. Wait, did you… Did you…” He pauses, and it doesn’t escape Rey’s attention that Ben’s eyes are now focused either on her mouth or her eyes and absolutely nowhere else as he speaks. “Did you touch yourself?” He’s obviously catching on, because that confused look he wore a few seconds ago is now looking a little less bewildered and a little more _ hopeful _ maybe.

“Yes, I did,” she answers.

“Because of me?”

“Yes, because of you.”

He lets out a long, slow breath. “Wow.” He’s back to running his free hand through his hair, but what really has Rey’s full focus is that he still hasn’t let go of her hand. He hasn’t demanded she leave. He isn’t angry with her. He’s just looks a little awed. “So then you know?”

“Know?”

“About my inexperience.”

“Yes.”

“But, you still agreed to go on a date with me.”

“Ben, I don’t think I can adequately express exactly how _ much _ I wanted to go on a date with you, regardless of your inexperience.” If Rey’s being completely honest with herself, maybe it’s also _ because _ of his inexperience. She wants to make him feel like no one else has ever made him feel. “I mean, I chased you down while you were buying mangoes, for God’s sake.”

Surprisingly, blessedly, he laughs. The tension is cut, and Rey feels like she can properly breathe again. “I was so nervous to ask you out, Rey. I felt dangerously close to an anxious nosebleed, and it’s been a while since I had one of those. But, it turns out you _ wanted _to go out with me.”

“So much.”

“So, you don’t mind it? That I haven’t got any experience in that arena?”

“Not at all. I think the fact that you wanted to practice—to be good at it, just shows how giving you’d be—_in that arena_.”

“Thank you for telling me this. I’ve been quite nervous about how I was going to broach the subject. This is a relief.”

“Well, I’m glad for that.”

Ben’s given up eye contact with her entirely. Now he just _ stares _ and _ stares _ at her mouth. Desperation is clawing at Rey. But, she knows it needs to be him. He needs to be the one. She licks her lips in hopeful preparation. _ Kiss me, please _ is the only thought her brain has the capacity to process right now.

For the first time since she sat down beside him on the couch, Ben lets go of her hand. Rey feels a split second of panic before she realizes why he’s let it go. He brings both hands up to her face, and spares a flick of his eyes to hers _ just once _ before he closes them and his mouth is on her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for taking this little fruit-filled trip with me. This has been my favorite writing experience, and part of that has been all of you guys showing so much love to the characters and so much support to me. Thank you all so much. 
> 
> Special thanks to Jeeno for all her encouragement and beta work, and thanks to KyloTrashForever for just being her. 💜 I hope you enjoyed your four-month-long birthday gift.

* * *

  
  
Ben is kissing her.

It’s tentative at first. It’s soft. It’s sweet. It’s _ Ben_. And it’s nothing like the _ want _ that roils through Rey, but the feeling of this is able to temper it. She encourages him on with her lips, and when she parts them and begs entrance into his mouth with her tongue—just a small press of it to the seam of his lips—he lets out a low groan before he slants his mouth over hers more fully and opens up to let her in. It’s a little frenzied and a bit messy, but this, _ this_, is what Rey has been waiting for. His hands move—from her cheeks to her nape, to her hair, then down to softly grip her neck. The sensation of his hands—_the hands_—on her, is dizzying. She wants him to touch her _ everywhere. _

He breaks the kiss and takes several long breaths before opening his eyes. “Was that okay for you? It felt really good for me.”

“It was perfect, Ben. So good.” And _ fuck _ was it. Rey wants him so bad that even though it was a little unpracticed, she felt that kiss in her _ toes_.

“Okay. Good.” It’s all he says before he leans in again, and this time there’s no tentativeness. This time his tongue finds hers first, this time his hands explore lower—running up and down the length of her arms. They pull her in closer. He brings his arm around behind her, and when his hand finds its way underneath the bottom hem of her shirt and presses against the bare skin of her lower back, Rey can’t help the gasp that escapes her.

Ben rears back instantly. “Sorry, should I not have—”

Rey interrupts him before he can get too in his head again. Before he can let worry creep into this splendid moment they’re carving out for themselves. “No, it was good. Don’t stop.” She finally feels emboldened enough to bring her hands up and run her fingers through his hair. She grabs a hold of it and brings his mouth down to her neck, because _ god _does she want to feel the press of that plush mouth there.

He takes the hint and kisses his way up and down the column of her throat while bringing his hands under the back of her shirt again. They travel up and when he feels the lace fabric of her bralette, he lets out a whimper. The sound of it takes a nonstop route from her ear canal to her vaginal canal and she clenches on nothing. For the love of all that is holy, she needs something inside her this instant. _ Fingers. _Fingers would be really nice right now, but anything would do.

His hands worry at the back of her bra and when he stops kissing her, seemingly distracted by whatever the hell he's doing behind her back, she realizes what’s going on. “It’s a bralette. There are no hooks.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You want to see?”

“What?”

“The bralette. Do you want to see it?”

“_Oh my god. _ Really? Yes. Please. I would like to see it.”

“Sit back,” she says, and he listens immediately, shifting until he’s sitting back against the couch. His eyes follow her every movement as she stands. He shifts in his seat, pulling on the legs of his pants, and when Rey looks at where he’s tugging, she can see the outline of his cock where it’s pressing against the seam of jeans. He’s big. So fucking big. She’s not even sure if his cock is fully hard yet. Could it be? Just from kissing? She just knows she can’t wait until it’s inside her.

She stands in front of him and leans forward, bracing herself on the muscles of his broad shoulders, before straddling him.

“_Fuck_, Rey.”

It’s the first thing he’s said that didn’t feel overly thought out—overly worked over in that brain of his before it came out of his mouth, and she delights in the wanton sound of it.

She leaves a little space between them when she sits atop his thighs. Space for him to _ see _ before he _ touches_.

His breathing is shallow and labored when she reaches her hand down and starts to pull off her shirt.

“May _I_?” he asks quietly.

“Of course.”

He reaches down and grabs the hem of her shirt—slowly, _ slowly, _raising it up. When she feels the cool air of his apartment against her nipples through the sheer lace of the bralette, she lifts her arms, so he can pull the shirt up and over her head.

Once it’s off, he just stares at her chest. After a few quiet seconds where he doesn’t make a single move, opting instead to stare at her still-covered tits in wide-eyed wonder, Rey breaks the silence to ask, “You want to take this off too?”

He takes another look at the bralette and maybe it’s the cross straps at the top that worry him, but he says, “Um, no, I think you’d better.”

She pulls it off slowly, making a show of it _ for him. _ Whereas before, when she was fully clothed, he let his hands wander a bit—explore her a little—now that’s she sitting on his lap exposed, his fists clench tightly at the side of his thighs. It isn’t until Rey grabs his hands that he relaxes them. She brings them up and places them on her breasts. “You can touch me Ben. I want you to.”

“You’ll tell me… if I do something wrong.” He swallows thickly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll tell you. I promise. Please—_please _ just put your hands on me.”

His eyes drop then from her eyes to her breasts. They’re small. Rey knows they are. But, Ben doesn’t seem to mind one bit. He traces the underside of one gently with his thumb, before slowly sliding it up until he runs it over her already hardened nipple. Somehow—probably just from the visual of the hands she’s thought so much about, _ finally _ touching her bare body—somehow it contracts even further and the look of sheer amazement on Ben’s face—it’s more intoxicating than anything she’s ever experienced in her life.

“Wow,” he says, his voice full of wonder. “I did that.” It’s sounds like a cross between a statement and a question.

“You did. Do it again.”

He brings a thumb up to her other nipple and this time instead of softly brushing it, he gently rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. Rey is keyed up to level ten right now, so when he tucks his head down and sucks a nipple into that perfect mouth, _ fuck _it feels so good, and she can’t help the way a moan escapes her mouth, and her head lolls back, and her hips roll forward against him. By the time he moves his mouth to the other, Rey is writhing in his lap, desperate for some friction.

“God, Rey. You’re so beautiful.” He leans back and softly kneads both breasts, brushing and rolling her wet nipples between his fingers. “Just perfect.” His hands drop down to her hips, and they’re so _ big _ compared her waist that it makes her clench more inside. His grip on her waist becomes firmer and then _ he _rolls her hips into him.

“_Ben_.”

“I can help. I want to help.”

She looks at him, slightly confused by what he’s offering right now. His face is so earnest, even though his eyes are so dark. “You’re doing that, grinding against me, because you need friction, right? Stimulation. Let me?” he asks.

“_Please_.”

He lifts her off his lap and deposits her beside him on the couch. “I’ll need to take your pants off.”

Rey doesn’t need to be told twice. She scoots down a bit so she can help him pull them off, while he makes his way to kneel on the floor in front of her. The sound of him pulling down her zipper causes some sort of Pavlovian response in her cunt because she can literally _ feel _herself getting wetter.

“Wait,” she says, stilling his hand. “Can you take your shirt off too? I really want to see you. To touch you.”

He pulls off his Henley by the back of the collar, up and over, until it sits on the ground beside him. “Oh my god, Ben.” She leans up to run her hands over the smooth skin of his broad shoulders, across the planes of his chest, and down each delineated ab muscle. Ben Solo is absolutely shredded. That gym membership has paid off in the most beautiful dividends. The fact that she is the first woman to do this to him—to touch him like this—she’s trying to not let it go to her head, but _ my god _ has the female population been missing out.

“Your pants?” She can tell by the way he keeps palming his cock, that he’s hard enough in those jeans he’s probably to the point of discomfort now.

“If I take my pants off, I’ll probably come just from being within three feet of you like this,” he says with a shake of his head. “I can’t.”

“I mean that’s okay. You can come—I can make you come, and then we can wait. Until you’re ready again. I _ want _ to make you come.”

“Rey, I want you to, I really do. But, I’ve never… I’ve been practicing for this for a while. To make this experience good for someone. And I want to make it good. For you. And I _ really _ want to know what it actually feels like—_inside_. So, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather just touch you for right now.”

His hand is back at her zipper. He finishes unzipping her pants and she lifts her hips so he can pull them off. His fingers make their way to the waistband of her panties. “May I?”

Rey is reeling so much from the thought of what is about to happen that words fail her. She nods her assent and he peels off her panties. Her heart beats a steady, albeit racing, rhythm in her chest. He lifts her legs and sets her feet on the tops of his thighs, using his hands to push on her knees, opening her up _ more _ for him. He stares in awe at her cunt for just a few seconds. “You’re so _ ripe. _ So _ wet_.”

“That’s because of you.”

“I can’t believe it.” He runs his hands up and down her inner thighs. “You’ve watched my videos, so you know? My technique?”

“Yes.” Rey has watched each video so many times, _ she’s _probably an expert fingerer by proxy.

“Remember to let me know if I do something you don’t like.”

“Okay.” Her voice is shaky when the word comes out of her mouth.

Just then he does her absolute favorite of the _ outside of the fruit _ maneuvers. It’s his signature move. He slowly runs two fingertips from her entrance to her clit, straight up the middle of her cunt, before softly circling the nub with both slick fingertips when they make their way to the top. It’s enough to make Rey keen. Her back bows and her hips lift off the couch. Her moan is guttural. She knows he’s spreading her arousal around. Making all of her slicker. _ Juicy_—like the fruit. This is the part in the videos when he’s softening up the fruit _ before_. Before his fingers push in. Before he _ makes room _ for himself inside them. The fact that she knows he’s preparing her for _ that _ just heightens the anticipation. “Fuck, Ben.”

He moves his fingers over her like this several times, studying her reactions, making adjustments to the pressure or direction depending on the responses they elicit. He learns quickly she likes direct pressure on her clit, so he gives her just enough to sate her, but not enough to make her come. It’s driving her crazy. He makes languorous circles around her clit before moving back down and tracing around the very edge of her entrance. She’s getting close now, she can feel it in the way the pressure starts to coil tightly in her lower stomach, in the way her toes curl, and he must notice it too, because _ that’s _when he pushes his finger inside her. First one, followed by a second, soon after.

“Ben. _ Yes.” _ She looks down at where his fingers have worked their way inside of her. She has seen his fingers this way countless times before, pushed into the flesh of supple fruit, but to see them inside _ her_—to see the way they glisten with _ her _ juices… Rey knows she’s going to come soon.

He makes a strange sound between a choke and a whimper as he works his fingers in and out of her. “Oh my god, Rey. You feel so _ good _ inside. So wet. So _ warm_. It’s… _ fuck_… it’s incredible.”

She can feel herself fluttering inside, can feel herself bearing down on just his fingers. He starts to move them against a place inside her that makes her eyes roll back and her teeth chatter every time he rubs against it. “You’re doing so good, Ben. _ My god. _ So good. Don’t—Don’t stop. Please.”

Her words must spur him on because his movements get more urgent. “Come on, Rey. I want to feel it. I want to know what it’s like. What it feels like inside you when you come. _ Please_,” he begs.

His words ring in her ears, they drag her closer to the brink, but it isn’t until he brings up his thumb, slick with her juices, to circle her clit, that she starts to tremble with the need for release. “Ben, _ please_.” That’s when he does it. What he _ knows _ will push her over the edge, because he’s studied her in this short time, because he’s paid attention to _ her _body—he moves his thumb directly over the needy nub of her clit. Just a few passes is all it takes.

“_Fuck_, Ben. _ Yes! _ ” Her hands scramble for purchase on anything around her, her legs shake so thoroughly a foot loses it’s perch on his thigh, and then she makes an absolute mess of his hand. As this is all happening she can hear him moaning through it with her. Hears his _ oh god, Rey. _

And as she comes down she looks over to him, eyes half-lidded—praising him, _ thanking _ him. She leans up and pulls him in. Holding him to her, but after she gets her bearings again, she can tell something is wrong. He’s stiff in her arms now. It doesn’t feel right. Not like before. “Ben?”

“I fucked up.”

She leans back to look at him. _ Is he fucking insane? _ She practically squirted on his hand, how could he possibly think— “You didn’t. I swear. You were amazing. That was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had in my _ life. _ Hell, I think it was _ the _best. Definitely better than I’ve had with any animate object.”

“I did, though. It felt so good to feel you come around my fingers. To hear you call out _ my _name while you did it. I made a mistake—”

“Ben, what do you mean?”

“I _ came_, Rey. I’m so sorry. I should have known something bad would happen. God, it’s just like me to do something like this.” He sounds despondent.

“Ben. It’s okay.”

“It _ isn’t_. There just had to be a way I’d ruin this. But, at least I was able to make you come,” he says resignedly.

She grabs his face in her hands. “Ben, stop. Listen to me. You came just because you made _me_ feel good. It’s actually hot that you were that into it. Everything is okay. Come here.” She grapples with his bare shoulders to pull him up towards her. She pushes him back onto the couch and kneels between his legs.

“Rey_. _What are you doing?”

“I’m taking these pants off. We’re about to make this whole being naked thing a lot more balanced.

She can tell he’s appraising her as she kneels nude before him. Rey quirks an eyebrow in his direction. “You like what you see?” she asks, jokingly.

He reaches out his hand and gently caresses her cheek. “I can’t believe you’re even real. That you’re here. That you allowed me to make you come on _ my _ couch. _ That _ is how beautiful you are, Rey.”

_ Goodness. _ This guy is too much. She’s kneeling between his legs on his immaculately clean floor, butt ass naked, and it’s his _ words _ that make her blush. “I think you might be a verifiable catch, Ben.”

“Remember you said that when you’re around to experience my first anxious nosebleed.”

Rey can’t help the full-throated laugh that comes out of her. She even fucking _ snorts_. “Fair enough.”

By the time she’s unzipping his jeans, and he’s lifting up, she’s delirious with the need to get her eyes on the prize she’s only gotten jean-clad glimpses of. She curls her fingers into the waistband of his boxer-briefs and he grabs her hand to stop her.

“Rey, wait. Maybe I should clean up first. I mean I definitely made a mess of things, and this isn’t the… Perhaps this isn’t the ideal _ state _ for me to be in when you see it for the first time. I want to put my best foot forward, so to speak.”

Based on what she’s gathered, he’s not going to have any issues in that regard. Rey can tell through his boxer-briefs that he’s already attempting to make a valiant recovery. She’s pretty sure she can move things along. “Hmm. I think I’d rather do it.”

“Do what?”

“Clean you up, Ben.”

She lowers down the waistband and pulls out his cock. The noise he makes when she first puts her hand around it—_good god_, she wants to pull noises like that out of him for as long as he’ll let her. His cock is warm and a little tacky, but that’s a secondary observation to the sheer size of him. He’s still mostly soft, and even still it’s—well, he’s certainly proportional. If this is him soft, Rey is hoping he’s not too much of a grower, because a hard Ben Solo might qualify as deadly weapon.

She grips him loosely in her hand—giving him room to grow. When she leans in and moves her tongue in a slow circle around his cockhead, she can hear the deep inhalation of breath he takes. She looks at him through her lashes and asks, “Is it still too sensitive? Did that hurt?” He doesn’t speak—she’s not sure if he’s capable of it right now, but he does shake his head _ no_. “Good.” She leans in further, taking more of his cock in her mouth. She can taste his cum on her tongue. It’s just like him—_sweet. _

“Oh my god, Rey. That’s—” He stops speaking when she takes the whole of him into her mouth. She can feel him start to harden more against her tongue with every pull of her mouth as she moves up and down the length of him. It takes less than a minute before she’s starting to have trouble reaching his base when she sucks him in. She finds her limit and pushes past it just a bit. Every time his cockhead hits the back of her throat he makes a wild noise—something so unlike quiet, reserved Ben that it fills her mind with a desire to find _all_ the ways she can unravel him. She’d like to try every one. She eventually pulls back and strokes him while he gawks at her. “That was the single greatest experience of my life,” he sighs. 

“Well, we aren’t done yet.”

When she can tell he’s ready, when he’s completely hard in her hand, she releases him to get a good look. As she spies the grandeur that is Ben Solo’s fully erect penis, she instantly wonders if she should have asked for a third finger earlier. “Holy shit, Ben.”

“Sorry. I know—From my research, I know it’s somewhat larger than average which can be uncomfortable for some women, depending on the level of sexual arousal. Will it be a problem?”

_ Is he fucking kidding? _

“Yeah the problem is, I’m never going to want to get off your dick, Ben.” _ Shit. _“Sorry. That was a little crass.”

“Well, I certainly don’t mind the sentiment,” he says with a shy smile.

Rey stands and straddles him again on the couch. She leans in to kiss him, and as she slots her lips over his, she can feel the press of his cock, still wet from her mouth, against her lower stomach. She wants him inside her, and she’s already plenty wet from coming earlier, but a little kissing will make him easier to take. His hands have certainly become more comfortable with roaming since earlier. He skates them up her arms, and along her back, before bringing them down and grabbing a handful of ass cheek in each hand. She squeaks at the feeling of it, not really expecting it from him. “Sorry. I’ve been dreaming about doing that since I walked into the bowling alley. Those jeans you were wearing—” Before he can finish his sentence, Rey rubs the slick lips of her cunt along his shaft. “_Rey._”

“I’m ready, Ben. If you still want to,” she breathes against his lips.

“Yes. Definitely, yes. I still want to.” He moans when she slides herself across him again. His hands come up to grip her hips and stop her movement. “Should we—I purchased a variety of condoms last night in case you had allergies. Not that I thought this would happen tonight—I didn’t make assumptions. I just hoped eventually—”

“Ben, stop. It’s okay. I’m clean and I have the implant, so we don’t really _ need _ one. But, we can, if you would rather. ”

“You mean I can… inside you.”

“Mhmm. I really want you to.”

“_Fuck_, Rey.” 

“That’s the idea.”

“Are you really making jokes in one of the most seminal moments of my life?”

“Mmm, seminal.”

“Rey! It’s not funny—”

Whatever else he was about to say, dies on his tongue as he watches Rey rise up on her knees and position his cock at her entrance. Rey studies his face, and he doesn’t blink once as she slowly starts to lower herself onto him.

He’s leagues bigger than anyone or anything she’s tried to take in before, but she’s so turned on by him—by the way his eyes stare at where they’re joined with such amazement, by the way his breath catches as she tries to take in more of him, by the way she can still taste him on the back of her tongue—that she’s able to take all of him with minimal discomfort. When her thighs hit his, she asks Ben, “Are you okay?”

“_Rey.” _ Just the way he says her name like that—reverent and overwhelmed—makes her clench and flutter, although this time there’s no room. She’s too _ full _ of him_. _ He must feel it too, because he moans before she’s even had a chance to move.“Oh my _ god_. I could feel that inside. You feel so good, Rey. So _ tight. _ Are you—are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She huffs out a breath as she acclimates to the size of him. “I like it. How big you are.” She braces her hands on his shoulders. “I’m going to move now, okay?” 

He nods his head before his eyes fall back down to where he’s seated inside her. She tests things out with a roll, and it’s clear, right from the start, that she won’t last long with him. His cock moves along every inch inside of her as her cunt grips him tightly. He’s touching places inside that have _ never _ been touched. She widens the space between her thighs before she starts to move up and down his length at a steady pace. Ben is moaning out her name like a mantra.

“You feel so good inside of me, Ben. You’re doing so good.”

When his hand comes up to the nape of her neck and he pulls her in for a kiss, it changes the angle a bit, and she can feel it—his cock sliding _ just right _ against the place his fingers were earlier. She chases the sensation of it. She leans closer into him, moves faster on top of him, bouncing on his cock faster and faster as it rubs that spot more and more. “Fuck, Ben, I’m going to come again.”

She can feel him start to tense under her fingers, when he asks, “How close?” 

“So fucking close, _ oh my god._”

“Can I—”

“Whatever you want, Ben. Whatever—”

She isn’t able to finish her sentence before he brings his hand down between them to start rubbing at her clit. She’s stretched so tight around him that she can feel each pass of his thumb over it _ inside _ her_. _ “_Yes_, Ben.”

Her walls start to flutter and then she can feel his cock twitching inside her, and she knows he’s close, too.

“_God, _ Rey, I can feel it. Rey, I’m going to—”

“Do it. Come in me, Ben.”

He grabs her hips and thrusts into her a few times before his head tips back and he groans out her name, and he’s so _ big _ and she’s so _ full _ of him that she can feel every spurt of his cock as he comes inside of her. He doesn’t stop, though, he keeps fucking into her and then she’s clenching down, she’s panting, she’s _ shaking_.

“Yes, Rey, come on me. I want to feel it. _ Please_. I want to know.”

And his words drag her under, because she _ wants _ him to know. She wants him to experience new things with her. Wants to show him things. So now she’s going to show him _ exactly _ what it feels like when she comes on his cock. She leans into him, the tension snaps, and she completely lets go.

“_BEN!” _

* * *

“Hmm. I’d like to try my mouth here next,” he says as he pulls the arm he has around her waist tighter until she’s pressed up against him even closer and he’s able to brush the top of her mound with his long fingers. “If you’ll allow it.”

They’re laying in his bed. Unsurprisingly, it’s huge and—maybe somewhat more surprisingly, considering what they’ve done on it, _ repeatedly_—it still smells freshly laundered. It’s like cleaning sorcery in this place.

“Are you seriously politely asking if I’ll _ allow _you to eat me out?”

“Yes.”

“You really are something else,” she smiles into his shoulder. “So, have you—have you studied that too?” Rey asks as she runs a finger slowly back and forth across breadth of his chest.

“It was next on my list, so I started doing research once I felt I got the fingering techniques down properly. It’s been a couple weeks.”

“Have you—practiced? Like you practiced with the fruit?”

He kisses the top of her head, and when she looks up at him, he gives her a sly grin. “Are you asking if I stuck my face in a melon as preparation?”

Rey laughs at his tone, but can’t help but press her thighs together at the visual. “I guess,” she says as she lays her head back down.

“No. I hadn’t gotten to the physical element yet. My focus has been on studying anatomical structure and lingual techniques.”

“Lingual techniques?”

“Yes. How to position the tongue for maximum pleasure dependent on the preferences of my partner.”

“Me.”

“Pardon?”

_ “My _ preferences, since I am your partner now.”

“Yes. Your preferences since you are my partner. So, may I?”

With all they’ve done, Rey’s body feels like it’s been through a much hornier version of the Iron Man competition over the last few hours. She’s sore in places she never thought she could be sore in. “Hmm, after what we’ve done tonight, I’m unfortunately going to have to take a rain check. But, after some R&R you are certainly more than welcome to put those lingual techniques to proper use any time you please. Consider this blanket permission.” _ You can’t die from too many orgasms, can you? Even if you can—what a way to go. _

“Sounds like a reasonable plan,” he says with another kiss to the top of her head.

It feels good lying here like this with him. She’s never been much of a cuddler, preferring space after sex. Sex has always been the easy part, although she’s learned tonight that it’s never been particulary _ good _ before. It’s the after sex bit—the intimacy, that’s always been a place she was too scared—too burned by her past—to go. But, with Ben, it’s like she wants to keep him close. And if how desperately he holds her hand or pulls her into him every chance he gets is any indication, Ben _ needs _ this feeling of closeness, and she can’t begrudge him that. He’s spent so many years without it.

“So why was the grapefruit your favorite?” Ben asks, continuing their conversation from before he so kindly requested permission to utilize his newly acquired _ lingual techniques_. He runs the tips of his fingers softly along the length of her back, pulling up goosebumps with every pass.

“Well, I liked how juicy it was. Every time you pushed into it… well, let’s just say I really appreciated the visual. Plus, I liked how small your giant hands made it look.” She doesn’t add that the grapefruit is also her favorite because it was the _ first _ fruit—because it’s what started all of this—because it’s why she’s lying here, warm and sated, in his arms.

“What was yours?” she asks.

“I used to think it was the honeydew.”

“Why honeydew?”

“Because they were most challenging. The seeds made things interesting.”

“Hmm. Makes sense. So you said _ used to _be your favorite. What is it now?”

“Definitely the mango.”

“I haven’t gotten a chance to see the mango video yet. I felt a bit guilty last night and couldn’t watch. But, why is it your favorite now?”

“Because it felt the most like you. It was the closest to the way you feel inside—smooth, and soft, and wet.” He curls up and over and gives her a slow, deep kiss. Rey appreciates how fast a learner he is—observant and diligent. No more unpracticed kisses. His kisses now are just perfect. “_Plus_—” He leans back to look at her and he gives her a smile—her favorite of all: the one with the dimples. “—if I hadn’t been on the hunt for mangoes, I wouldn’t have been at that farmers market yesterday, and I may have never met you.”

Rey lowers her face into his chest to hide her blush. “Hmm, Ben Solo, I know I don’t have a degree in actuarial science, but I think I am still qualified to say with a very safe degree of certainty, that you are _ definitely _a catch. This was the kind of evening a girl could get used to.”

“I certainly hope so.”

_Hope._ Hope has been a sort of foreign word to Rey for a while now—always so focused on the present, so determined to live in the now, and not want for things that may never happen. But, hearing the word from Ben, and thinking back on how much she did hope for this with him without even realizing it—she thinks maybe she could get used to this hope thing. She thinks she’d like to try.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on twitter at [Jenfys Nest](https://twitter.com/ancientcityjenn)


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